Mine to Ruin

ISLA’S POV

I don’t know what’s more confusing. How he brought another woman to this godforsaken island... or why my body doesn’t seem to mind.

She stands there like she’s done this before.

Black lace barely holding her in.

Hips built to break rules.

Her curves make my mouth water and I hate that they do.

She doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t need to.

Damien doesn’t either.

“On your knees,” he says, voice like gravel and command.

She drops instantly, like gravity is his to control.

“Undress me.”

Her fingers don’t tremble.

They move with purpose, precise and practice—like this is choreography and she’s memorized every step.

She unbuttons his shirt slowly, reverently, like she’s handling something sacred…or dangerous.

And then his cock is out—thick, heavy, hard.

My lips part without meaning to.

Her mouth wraps around him like she owns him.

Fuck. He’s huge.

My jaw locks.

“Watch,” he commands, voice like steel sliding over bone.

And I do. I can’t not.

My thighs press together. My breath shallows.

I should be furious.

But all I feel is heat.

A slow, molten ache building low in my belly.

She bobs her head, takes him deep, like it’s instinct.

He groans, deep and guttural, his hand fisting her hair tighter until her eyes water.

She slurps. He growls.

His biceps flex. His head tilts back.

He’s losing control—but not really. Damien never truly loses control.

I watch everything.

I learn him.

The way his abs tighten when she twists her wrist.

How his toes curl when she flicks the head with her tongue.

The way his jaw clenches before he tips over.

And I hate her.

Because she’s in my place.

His fingers dig into her scalp as he grunts—once, twice, and then he cums.

Hard. Deep.

She swallows every drop without blinking. Then stands, lips glistening, chest rising and falling, and walks to the wall like a soldier dismissed.

“You’re such a good little slut,” Damien praises. Voice thick with pride. Dripping with satisfaction.

He slaps her ass—once. Then again. The third time, it echoes.

She gasps. Whimpers. Moans like it’s a gift.

Then he slides into her.

One thrust. Deep.

She cries out. Her body slams against the wall, bracing for more.

And he gives it to her.

Again. And again.

His hips slam into hers. Merciless. Possessive.

Then…

His eyes find me.

Hungry. Commanding. Cruel.

“Spread your legs.”

My breath catches. My hands tremble. But I obey.

“Touch yourself.”

I do.

I don’t even hesitate.

My fingers are soaked before they even reach me.

I match the rhythm of his thrusts, my other hand gripping the bed frame for balance.

The sounds she makes only pull me deeper under.

“Don’t you dare cum.”

His voice slices through the haze like a whip.

I whimper. My back arches. My body betrays me.

He grabs her throat—not tight, just enough. Just enough to make a point.

Eyes locked on me.

Still fucking her.

Still watching me fall apart.

“This what you want, Isla? To be used like her?”

“Yes.” The word escapes on a gasp.

“Beg.”

“I’m yours,” I pant. “I’ll do anything. I need it…I need you…I’m so fucking close, please Damien—”

His eyes burn through me.

Then he nods once.

“Cum.”

It detonates in me.

A shockwave.

My back arches, fingers still circling, my mouth falls open in a moan so raw, so animal, it rips through the silence like a scream.

I shatter.

I come undone like he wanted me to.

He pulls out of the woman mid-thrust. She collapses against the wall, panting, legs trembling.

Then he walks to me.

His cock is still hard, still glistening with her.

My heart pounds so violently I hear it in my skull.

He stops inches from me.

Doesn’t touch…doesn’t speak.

“What did you learn?” he asks.

I blink up at him, dazed. Still spread, still aching.

I shake my head. Breathless. Wordless.

His jaw ticks once.

His gaze dips to my pussy—swollen, flushed, ruined.

But he steps back.

The woman smooths her hair like this is just another tuesday.

Damien buttons his shirt slowly. Like none of it happened. Like everything happened.

“Get dressed,” he says flatly. “We’re going somewhere.”

Somewhere?

I try to stand. My legs barely cooperate. I don’t know what day it is.

But I reach for my clothes.

Because Damien said so.

And somehow… that’s enough.

******

The red lace clings to me like a whisper...or a threat.

It dips between my breasts, hugs my hips, climbs high on my thighs, leaves nothing to the imagination and everything to hunger.

My makeup is sharp. Deadly.

Blood-red lips, cheekbones contoured like blades, eyes lined in defiance.

I look like I bite.

I stare at myself in the mirror, and I don’t recognize this girl.

But I don’t hate her either.

A week ago, I was drowning in debt, working doubles at two soul-sucking jobs. Barely surviving.

Now I’m here.

A prisoner wrapped in silk.

A queen in chains.

I feel him before I see him.

His presence thickens the air.

I turn.

He leans against the doorframe like he’s sculpted from sin—black trousers, open collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows.

He's all veins and muscle and old money.

His eyes rake over me.

“Look in the mirror.”

I obey.

He approaches, lifts something from his palm.

A diamond choker. Cold. Stunning. Sharp.

He brushes my collarbone with two fingers. Then fastens it around my neck.

It clicks into place like a lock.

Ownership.

I don’t speak.

I’m not allowed.

His lips graze my neck. Barely. Not a kiss. A warning.

A promise.

I shiver.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re gliding across black water in a speedboat.

Damien sits beside me, his hand resting lazily on my thigh.

Like I’m his.

Like I’ll always be.

“We’re visiting a friend,” he says, eyes on the waves.

But his jaw is too tight.

The island behind us disappears into the night.

When we dock, a sleek SUV waits.

A driver in black stands expressionless. Armed.

Damien grips my arm tight but not enough to bruise.

He leans down, voice low.

“Shut the fuck up… and smile.”

My pulse spikes.

But I obey.

We climb into the backseat.

I barely get comfortable before—

Cold steel kisses my temple.

A gun pressed to my head.

I freeze.

My breath catches mid-throat.

I turn to Damien, panic swelling in my chest—

But he’s already got a gun pointed at him.

The man holding it doesn’t blink. Neither does Damien.

Everything inside me screams.

The door shuts.

The world vanishes.

And the island swallows us whole.